Examinations, Mysteries and Recoveries
by Spockette
Summary: Preview of NightWatch situation. Sheridan is interrogated.


Examinations, Mysteries and Recoveries  
  
Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and all characters belong to PTEN-Babylonian Productions only. The following story is property of the writer and is intended for entertainment purposes only.  
  
Summary: Captain Sheridan is captured and interrogated during Season 1 (after the episode "All Alone in the Night") This story is kind of AU but still follows the storyline by providing a prequel to the NightWatch situation. I've had this story rolling around my head for some time now. On a personal note I am an LPN but am studying to be an RN.  
  
Walking the long halls through the station had always been enjoyable for Captain John Sheridan. He needed the exercise it provided. Just last week Dr. Franklin had put him on a diet. He laughed at the thought 'food plan' as it was called. The only thing he liked on the list he was given was oranges. The rest was a diet for a rabbit. Meats, breads and pastas were only allowed in a small daily portions. What was Stephen thinking? Those were the foods he was raised on.  
  
He decided that an increase in exercise was really what he needed. On the Agamemnon he routinely went to the gym but on Babylon 5 there was tons of paperwork and other duties he had to tend to before his own needs.  
  
Insomnia had plagued him so he decided that an early morning stroll when the station was quieter was the best time. The Zocalo was practically empty, most shops now closed, lights dim through the halls. He wandered to the Green Sector, then decided to check on the Brown Sector or 'Down Below'. He hadn't been there in quite a while. He decided that as Captain he needed to be aware of all the section of the Station.  
  
It was dark and humid. Occasionally a body stirred in a corner or along the wall. A noise behind him caused him to startle. Turning around, he saw nothing. 'Just my imagination' He was glad he had worn his black slacks and grey sweater instead of his Earth Force uniform.  
  
He turned back to continue his walk and met up with a dark figure in his way. Before he could take a step or say anything he was pinned from behind and the dark figure slapped a tranq patch on the right side of his neck. His knees sank immediately and he lost consciousness.  
  
Susan was worried. It wasn't John's nature to just disappear like he had. His link was in his quarters along with his uniform. Blankets were strewn across the bed but other than that his quarters were normal. Garibaldi had sent a search team through the station after the Captain didn't show up for his shift. So far not a trace of him had been found.  
  
Sheridan woke up to a blinding pain behind his eyes. He tried to move but found he lacked the strength. He felt dizzy and sick then remembered being tranqued. It was quiet, too quiet. He heard only the sounds of the station in its normal rotation. He pried open his eyes and blinked away the haze surrounding his head. It was dark and he still smelled the musty scents of down below. When his vision cleared enough he tried again to move which set off the pain in his head once again. He groaned.  
  
"What are you doin' down here? You don't look like one of us. You're too clean." A harsh voice rang out in the darkness.  
  
Sheridan decided not to tell them his real identity just yet. "I just got here a few days ago..a job."  
  
"A job!" the voice spat. "Hear that? He's lookin for a job." A few laughs from the background sounded like a group of 4-5 people. "If you just got here you should at least have some credits or jewelry but you got nothin'."  
  
A rustle of fabric and then he felt a hard kick to his left side. He still couldn't see much or move but the pain was intense, like a hot iron burning deep into his flesh. Sheridan gasped in response to the pain, his body thrown over on to his side. The effects of the tranq patch was beginning to wear off and he could now move his arms some. He tried to sit up but was roughly restrained by large hands. He struggled against the grip.  
  
"Someone's coming!" a voice urgently but quiet stated.  
  
John was pulled up to his feet. His vision cleared some more and he saw dark shadows coming closer. A sharp sting in his upper right arm told him that he would quickly loose consciousness again.  
  
"What do you want from me?" he heard himself slur.  
  
"Lets get him to the Doc. He'll know what to do."  
  
Darkness overpowered him again as he was dragged down the dark, dirty hallway.  
  
Sheridan was then dragged to a small dark cubicle and unceremoniously tossed his limp body on a pile of blankets that weren't much more than rags.  
  
"Hey Doc! Look what we got for you. Fresh meat!"  
  
A tall slim figure in a black suit rose from a small desk to examine the body on the makeshift bed in the corner of the dark room. He appeared in his 60's, grey thinning hair, pale skin that stretched over his long face. Bending over he tilted Sheridan's head back to get a better look. The man's brow furrowed. "Shit! You've really done it now. Don't you know who this is?"  
  
The two who dragged him in looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. "He told us he just got here. Looking for work."  
  
"Work my ass. This the Captain of this Station. This is John Sheridan."  
  
"He's got to be work a few credits."  
  
"I think our superiors will be pleased if he has any information for us."he grinned devilishly, skin stretching over his skull even tighter. "Very pleased indeed."  
  
Zack Allen searched desperately for any sign of Captain Sheridan. It had been two days since his disappearance. Very few had seen him the night of his disappearance. Zack had spoken to a Drazi merchant who had seen the Captain walking through the Zocalo after the shops had closed. The direction that he walked was known to be the path to Down Below. That worried Zack. Now he searched Down Below with Garibaldi. They had worn plain clothes in hopes of not alerting anyone of their presence there. So far, no one was talking.  
  
"Talk, damn it!" Another blow sounded from a closed fist, balled up in hatred.  
  
John Sheridan hung suspended by his wrists from a beam that was exposed from a part of the ceiling. His lip and nose was oozing fresh blood. His eyes were almost swollen shut and a large bruise and gash was visible above his left eye. His clothes were dirty and stained with blood and other fluids from his tortured body. Barely conscious, he glared at his captors, then hung his head to his chest.  
  
"Shit! He's out again. We'll never get anywhere like this." The older man known as Doc approached Sheridan's limp form and inserted a syringe filled with a stimulant into Sheridan's right thigh. After the drug had been administered Doc grinned. "Relax boys, we'll get the information we want and more. The station codes would be a bonus huh fellas?" The thugs in the background laughed as Sheridan began to stir.  
  
To John Sheridan, the pain he felt in his body was a grim reminder to remain silent. At first he tried to question his captors, only to be pumped full of paralyzing agents to keep him from fighting them. Even now he felt it difficult to move. The drugs had done nothing for the pain as he was kicked around on the cold, damp floor. There was times he had passed out only to awaken to even more pain and questioning. He refused now to speak to them fearing he would let some of the questions be answered. He had lost track of time since his capture but he supposed it had been only two or three days.  
  
Now, hanging suspended by his wrists, most of the drugs had worn off but if he moved any much an intense pain burned through his wrists to his back. Now his hands were numb. He was too weak to try to hold himself up by the steel cable circling his wrists. He knew he had several broken bones and a mild concussion. He could barely see anything in the dark room through his swollen eyelids. Pain now returned but there was a difference. His heart beat wildly in his chest and he was pouring sweat. At least blood didn't pour from his nose and mouth.  
  
"Now, Captain. You will tell me the Station codes and the names of anyone contacting you in the past month."  
  
He couldn't understand why they would have an interest in his contacts. Still, he had no desire to give in to them.  
  
"No." he heard his raspy voice gurgle. Another blow to the stomach, this time with an iron pipe. He retched, bringing up bright red bloody mucous that caused him to cough violently.  
  
"Be reasonable Captain. It's not too much to ask." A lash across his back with a wire caused pain to sear his brain. He cried out in agony. He would have lost consciousness if it weren't for the drugs he had been given. He prayed for Susan or Garibaldi to find him soon.  
  
Michael Garibaldi crawled through the deepest, darkest, dampest part of Down Below. He had no idea that anyone would even live there but there were a few inhabitants, mostly thieves and lurkers. Zack was also in the same section. They had decided that splitting up would cover more ground. Sheridan had to be on the station. All bags and shipments were being searched for any traces of him. If he had been spaced the sensors would have picked it up immediately. He had to be there. All other sections had been cleared or in the process of being cleared by other of his security staff. Who would want to kidnap the Captain anyway? Oh well, stranger things had happened.  
  
He was on his hands and knees when he heard a pain filled scream. Again he heard it.  
  
"Zack." he spoke into his link quietly. "Come over to my section. I think I hear something."  
  
At the end of the muck filled crawl space was an opening to another room. Must have been originally a storage compartment. Zack appeared behind him in the small space. As they made their way toward the opening, voices became clearer and more groans and painful sounding slaps.  
  
"What are they Captain?" They heard one of them shout angrily.  
  
Peering around the corner, Garibaldi saw the three men. The one speaking was older and had a sharp piece of metal in his hand. The other two stood on each side of a bloodied beaten man hanging by his wrists from a beam. One of them had a metal pipe in his hand and the other had a wire whip.  
  
The hanging man slowly raised his head. "Go to hell." he croaked in a familiar voice. It was Captain Sheridan. His shirt hung from his body in shredded, bloody tatters.  
  
Garibaldi's blood raced as adrenaline fueled his anger. He signaled Zack to action, then sprang to his feet around the corner.  
  
"Freeze scumbag!" he shouted. Zack was right behind him, pulse pistol loaded and ready. All hell broke loose as the pipe armed man hit Sheridan over the head and the older man thrust the already bloodied metal 'knife' into Sheridan's stomach. The Captain gurgled a scream and went limp. Garibaldi took out the pipe wielder and Zack blasted the older man. The other dropped the wire and held up his hands.  
  
"On the floor, now!" Zack instructed as Garibaldi helped support the Captain. He opened a link to Medical then to Susan. "We got him. Send a Med Team stat!"  
  
Zack could hardly believe that anyone could have survived the beatings that Sheridan had endured. Now, blood poured from around the metal shard that was embedded in his abdomen. Garibaldi blasted through the metal that held John's wrists secured to the beam and slowly lowered him to the floor. He did not respond to their shouts. Garibaldi removed his jacket to staunch the blood flow, careful not to dislodge the makeshift knife. A pool of blood formed underneath the fallen Captain's side. It seemed like an eternity before the Med Team arrived.  
  
"He's not breathing." stated Zack as he knelt beside the limp Sheridan. He tilted his head back and provided him with lifesaving breaths. "Come on Captain, Breathe!" he stated between breaths.  
  
It was then the Med Team arrived. Sheridan was quickly loaded and secured to the stretcher. A med tech rhythmically forced oxygen into John's lungs with an Ambu bag. Dr Franklin quickly assessed John and began to quickly move out to Med Lab.  
  
Susan ran to meet them. She had to see if John was all right. Normally she would try to sense him but she was too upset to even try. It took all her concentration to stay calm. She left Corwin in charge. She could trust him to run the Station for a while as she had many times before. He was more than capable.  
  
She almost ran into Zack and Garibaldi, bloodstains on parts of their clothing. She started to feel sick. "Where's the Captain?"  
  
"Susan" Garibaldi somberly stated, eyes full of worry.  
  
"Don't Michael. Don't give me any bad news." Garibaldi took a deep breath before telling her how bad the Captain's injuries were. He knew they had served together before and had a comradery that went deeper than the chain of command.  
  
"We got the bastards who had him. I'm just hoping that we can find out why they had him."  
  
"I'm going to see John."  
  
Garibaldi placed a hand up to stop her. "No. They won't let you in. He's in surgery anyway."  
  
Susan set her face hard and stubbornly stated, "Well, I'll just wait at the door."  
  
Dr. Franklin worked feverishly to save John Sheridan's life. He was a mess. It was a miracle he was even alive. He had blunt trauma to his head, multiple rib fractures, a punctured left lung, shattered right collarbone, dislocated right shoulder, broken right arm, lacerated stomach and intestine and broken right leg. The broken bones were the least of his worries as John's blood loss had been massive. Fluids and blood was poured back into his veins by transfusions as he operated to remove the metal from his abdomen. Carefully, Stephen stitched his torn stomach and intestines. John would have a hard recovery if he survived at all.  
  
Bright red blood was being collected by the tube in his nose that led to his torn stomach. A breathing tube had been placed in his mouth to keep his airway open so a ventilator could breathe for him. He had suffered a complete respiratory failure. So far he was too weak and injured to breathe on his own. Several paralyzing drugs were found in Sheridan's blood along with tranquilizers and sedatives. The doses alone were enough to kill him and the after effects could be brutal. Maybe it was a good thing that Sheridan was comatose. Stephen was afraid to give him a heavy dose of sedatives or anesthesia fearing he would arrest or have organ failure.  
  
After eight hours of surgery and intensive care, Stephen was finished with the repair of John Sheridan's stomach and chest. He had managed to stabilize his ribs and repair the punctured lung. He had placed several tubes and drains in his chest and abdominal cavity. He wasn't pretty but at least he was still alive.  
  
Stephen washed up and rounded the corner of Med Lab, almost colliding with Susan Ivonova.  
  
"Susan, what are you doing here? Have you been here all this time?" he asked.  
  
Susan had spent many hours pacing the hallway, waiting for any news of Sheridan's condition. "Stephen, how is he?" she anxiously asked.  
  
"Not too good I'm afraid. He's lost a lot of blood." Stephen looked pale and tired.  
  
"Can I see him?"  
  
"I've got him in he Isolab right now. It's for his own protection. We're still pumping fluids and blood into him." Susan started around Stephen to enter but he caught her by the arm. "Susan, he don't look good. Maybe you should wait."  
  
She shook her head, "I've got to know Stephen. I have to see him."  
  
The first thing that Susan was aware of was the hiss of the ventilator that supplied John's breathing. He was covered up to his neck with blankets so she couldn't see much of his battered body. Beside him was a series of collection canisters, all draining dark blood and fluids from him. Several monitors surrounded him like a beeping, backlit fortress. The flashing rail above his body monitored his condition every second. Looking closely she could barely see his pale and bruised face for the tubes in the way. She wished she could touch him, to be near him to help her realize he was still alive. He was her friend, closer than any other on the Station. She tried to open her mind to sense him but found nothing but the cold, harsh sounds of machines.  
  
Several days passed with no definite change in John Sheridan's condition. The Med Lab staff tenderly cared for him in the Isolab while Delenn watched through the observation window. She missed his presence strolling through the Station. She had to admit, she cared very much for the man lying comatose in the Station's medical facility. They had several dinners together, watching old earth vids. He had helped her to better understand the human culture. She stood there for a long time, eyes closed meditating and praying for his recovery.  
  
More bruises were now evident on his body. Stephen still had not repaired his shoulder and collarbone. John's condition was most fragile. The break to his arm and leg were not as severe and would likely heal on their own without intervention other than a cast. Dr. Franklin would have to wait until some of the swelling subsided before a cast could be applied. Sheridan's face was now swollen and bruised, left eye blackened and swollen tightly shut. One of the med staff was placing some drops in his eyes and ointment on his chapped lips.  
  
He was still attached to the ventilator that constantly pushed oxygen into his still form. Occasionally thick, bloody mucous would be suctioned from the tube. The drainage in his tubing was now dark. Dr. Franklin had rolled him over on his left side facing away from her. She was shocked when the back of his gown fell open, exposing the stripes where his flesh had been laid open. Several dark bruises were also evident as he was repositioned and propped on pillows to help support him. She couldn't take it any longer. She had to be near him to help comfort him even though he was unconscious. He had to know she was there to care for him. He was far from his home without the loving support of his family. Susan visited for brief periods throughout the day, the Station's demands keeping her busy. Maybe that was the way she dealt with the pain of seeing John so fragile.  
  
She walked over to the door that kept the room sealed from the outer room and entered. An ultraviolet light swept over her as it killed surface germs on her body and clothing. Silently, she approached the foot of his bed. Franklin and the others moved away as she approached John's side.  
  
Tears blinded her as she noted the pained look on his face. It spoke volumes of the sheer agony he was enduring. IV lines ran into the port that had been placed in his upper chest. She was afraid to touch him fearing she would cause him even more pain.  
  
She looked to Stephen who told her gently she could stay with Sheridan as long as she wished. She sat in the chair provided for her and tenderly took John's hand. It was cold.  
  
She softly spoke to him. "I'm here John. I will wait for you and pray for your recovery." She stroked his swollen fingers, seeking a response from him. She would wait beside him and help guide his recovery.  
  
Michael Garibaldi entered the sparse cubicle used for a holding cell. The only furnishing was a small table and chair. In the chair, sat the only surviving member of the Captain's torture team. He glanced about nervously as Garibaldi entered.  
  
"You better hope that Captain Sheridan survives. Attempted murder is much more lenient than murder." He stood before the man identified as Joseph Parsons. His ID card was probably bogus but it stated he was from Earth. It had been true that he just arrived on the station. The other two had been aboard for at least 6 months. So far they had not been Identified. Either Mr. Parsons was very sloppy or very stupid. Parsons did not speak at all and looked at the floor. All Garibaldi could think about was the sight of John, bleeding and bruised, hanging by his wrists and laying comatose in MedLab unable to breathe without machines, tubes and wires everywhere.  
  
"Who sent you?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Why are you here? Who are you working for?"  
  
Still no answer.  
  
"Damnit! Answer me!" he reached in his pocket and withdrew a small black armband. "What's this?" he waved it in front of Parsons before tossing it across the table.  
  
"That was in your pocket. I'm sure it's not there by accident."  
  
Parsons looked back to the floor, silent. This was going nowhere, fast.  
  
"Well, maybe a brief scan by our Telepath will coax it out of you." It was a bluff of course. Talia would never do an unapproved scan but if Parsons was as dumb as he seemed it could work. He turned to walk out.  
  
"Wait! No Telepath!" He had a terrified look in his eyes like a person who is haunted by his own thoughts. "I'll tell you what I know."  
  
When 'night' had fallen over Babylon 5, the lights in the Med Lab were dimmed. Delenn sat by Captain Sheridan, meditating. She tried to summon the strength to leave his side. Lennier was a frequent visitor, also praying for the Captains recovery.  
  
Later in the night, she was talking softly to him and began to notice how much more pale he had become. Concerned, she called for the Med Tech to check Sheridan's monitors and drains. When she checked the collection unit, she paled herself.  
  
"What is it? What's wrong?" Delenn asked, concerned.  
  
"I hope nothing." she called for Dr. Franklin who quickly appeared from his quarters. He rushed Delenn from the bedside to the outer room to watch them quickly assess John.  
  
"Stephen, what's wrong with him?"  
  
Stephen began to don his surgical gear. "He's bleeding internally again." he sighed. "Dammit! He's too weak. He could die this time Delenn." He turned to bark orders to the Techs. "Get me five units of o-positive and have five more on standby."  
  
One of the Techs came to Delenn's side. "Ambassador, please....get some rest. I'm sure he will be OK. We'll call you after his surgery is finished."  
  
Delenn sighed, defeated. "I suppose you are right." She caught one last glance of John, helpless and surrounded by the Med Team.  
  
Susan was worried. Sheridan's abductors were very difficult to pin down. She had to send in a report to Earth Force about the Captain's injuries and status of his captors. The other two bodies would be sent to Earth for Identification and disposal. Mr. Parsons would remain for a few more days before sent to Earth for trial. Death would be welcomed by him if she could get her hands on him.  
  
Mr. Parsons related to Michael he had just arrived and met up with the others. He did not know their names only "Doc" and "Jones". Their duties were to watch the Station and report any strange happenings to "Doc" so he could report to his superiors. He was led to believe that they were for the good of Earth, eyes and ears to keep tabs on Babylon 5. When they caught Sheridan, they had needed money and he looked out of place in Down Below so he was prime target for them. There were more of them but he didn't know specifically where or who they were. When they had found out it was the Captain they had captured, they were torturing him for station codes and to check his loyalty to Earth. Also they were trying to find out who his contacts were. Things had gotten out of hand when Sheridan had not talked. "Doc" decided to string him up and pumped him full of drugs. Then Garibaldi and Zack busted up their little party.  
  
Now, she sat silently in her quarters, thinking of a time when she and John had served on IO. Sheridan had caught a bad case of Tholian flu that had led to pneumonia. She had been good friends with him even then. She could see him now, younger, walking unsteadily into the mess hall and collapsing in a chair beside her. She practically dragged him into the Med Quarter. He complained that he "didn't have time to be sick." In fact he wasn't fond of showing weakness and sickness, not to mention needles. He had an extreme temperature and was very congested on the verge of respiratory collapse. He spent two weeks in the Med Quarters hooked up to IV's and Oxygen. He had recovered quickly then but she doubted a quick recovery now for him.  
  
Stephen again had to open the Captain's abdominal cavity. His intestine was inflamed and bleeding where the sutures had not held very well. Infection was spreading through the tissues there where the metal shard had been impaled. He had to bring a part of John's intestines outside his body to form a temporary colostomy to collect the drainage and fecal matter that could cause him further infection and systemic poisoning.  
  
He was shocked when the Med Tech had noticed the bright red blood that was draining from his stomach again. His whole abdominal cavity was now infected and he would need strong antibiotics to combat it.  
  
To Stephen's relief, John had made it through the surgery. Several more IV's were added along with life saving blood. The next 24-48 hours would be the most critical. The Captain would need constant care and monitoring.  
  
Turning from Sheridan, he spotted Susan, arms crossed, anxiously pacing the floor in front of the observation window. She appeared tired and drawn, uniform unbuttoned at the neck and partly unzipped. He informed her of John's present condition.  
  
She began to cry softly. "It's just not fair! He just got here 6 months ago. I was so glad it was him they sent. He's my friend. I remember all the good times we had serving together on IO. It was then when Anna died. He was devastated. He talked to me about her some, mostly when he had one too many. He loved her so much. He never dated anyone else that I know of. He spoke often of his family back on Earth. I met his sister, Elizabeth a few weeks ago. Maybe I should call them about his condition." She glanced back at John. "It's the least I could do for him right now."  
  
Medlab was silent for now. Dr. Franklin sat at his desk, dark circles of fatigue haunted his eyes. He watched the readout scrolling steadily by on the desk monitor that indicated John Sheridan's current condition. His vital signs and heart rate were stable. So far so good. He glanced up to look through the observation window where Sheridan lay. He cringed at the sight of the otherwise strong and healthy Captain.  
  
It had been twelve hours since his last surgery and still there was no response from him. Dr. Franklin had earlier placed EEG electrodes on his temples to monitor his brain wave pattern. He was still pale and swollen despite the numerous blood transfusions and ice pack placement. Dark fluids still drained from his body. Underneath the tubes John looked miserable. His swollen face did not betray his condition. If he were conscious he would be in great pain. Stephen had started a continuos dose of pain medications since most of the drugs he had been given by his assailants had been flushed from his system.  
  
Delenn had been convinced to leave John's side to 'rest, meditate and pray for him'. She needed the break. She had sat beside him almost unmoving, clinging to his hand and watching as if he would awaken any moment.  
  
A motion to his right caused Stephen to look up. He saw a surprising sight. It was Kosh. He stood for a moment in the entrance to Med Lab before taking a few more steps to peer inside the Isolab.  
  
"Can I help you with anything, Ambassador?" Stephen nervously asked. He didn't expect any answer. The only sounds were Kosh's encounter suit and the hiss and beep of the machines monitoring and assisting John's breathing. Then as quickly as he had entered Kosh was gone.  
  
More days passed on Babylon 5. John Sheridan's wounds were finally beginning to heal, bruises fading to horrible shades of color. Stephen had treated most of the surface scraped and cuts especially on his back, leaving only a trace of redness that would soon fade. The tubes from his stomach and chest continued to drain toxic fluids. The infection and swelling had caused an irritation to his liver that in turn caused John to jaundice.  
  
His fractured right leg and wrist was now casted and propped on pillows. He still remained in protective isolation but Dr. Franklin was considering moving him to a critical care bed. He still was not breathing on his own but was having some returning brainwave activity on the EEG.  
  
He had allowed Susan to enter the Isolab to be with the Captain. He looked in on her, sitting beside him silently, tenderly touching his left hand and arm. Tears flowed from her eyes. Stephen entered the Isolab and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.  
  
"It's OK Susan. I know it don't look it right now but he's really doing much better."  
  
She looked up at him, "He's in so much pain, Stephen."  
  
"I have him on strong IV pain medication."  
  
"No." Susan cut him short. "You don't understand. I can feel him." She took several deep shaking breaths. "I couldn't before but I can feel him now."  
  
"I don't understand how."  
  
She looked first at the floor and then back to John. "I'm a latent telepath Stephen. It's not strong but it's there. I can feel him. He's trying to wake up." She sobbed. "He's terrified and don't know where he is."  
  
Stephen had no idea Susan was telepathic. "I'm sorry Susan. I didn't know." They stood there beside John's bed, in silent hopes that he would soon awaken.  
  
After the conversation with Susan, Dr. Franklin had Captain Sheridan moved out of the Isolab to another area of the Med Lab where he could be closely monitored. Gently he was transferred, bringing along an array of tubes, wires and machines. Maybe the movement, along with the auditory stimuli of Med Lab would help to bring him from his coma. He also encouraged those visiting to talk to him. Before speaking to Susan, Stephen had not wanted John to become stimulated fearing he would decompensate but he needed to know where he was. He hated to think that John felt he was trapped inside his own body. Garibaldi brought in a data crystal that contained some music and vids that he knew the Captain would like. Stephen adjusted a small display fixed on John's bed in which to play the data. Susan and Delenn talked softly to him. Delenn softly stroked his face and smoothed his hair while talking to him. Lennier brought some fragrant lotions the Med Staff could use after bathing John. G'Kar read daily from the Book of G'Kwan. Londo sent Vir who prattled about. So far there had been no more visits had been from Kosh.  
  
Susan was the first to notice John's movements. She sat beside him one evening when she saw a twitching of his left hand.  
  
"Captain?" Again they moved. She grasped his cold hand in hers and called for Stephen. "John, I'm here." Another twitch of his fingers. "Hold on John. I'm right here." She closed her eyes, concentrating on reaching him. She could feel him struggling, cold, sick, weak and hurting. She called out again for Stephen. John had begun to shiver as if he were cold.  
  
Stephen arrived, examining him. "Captain, Can you hear me?" he checked John's eyes with a light then read his EEG. "He's trying. The head injury is keeping him from waking completely."  
  
Susan had tears streaming down her face as she continued to hold John's hand.  
  
Delenn arrived beside Susan. "What's wrong?"  
  
Stephen explained to her he was trying to awaken. "It's going to take time. Don't rush him."  
  
"Doctor, why is he trembling?"  
  
"He's running a fever from the infections to his body." Dr. Franklin reached over to the other empty bed to retrieve another blanket. They gently unfolded the blanket over John's body and tucked it around him. After a few moments, his tremors stopped. He gripped Susan's hand as she rubbed his forearm. "Delenn is here John." she placed his hand in Delenn's after pulling from his grasp. Susan touched him briefly on the shoulder before returning to duty.  
  
A few hours later John was making feeble movements with his good arm and leg. He would occasionally spasm. His face reflected the great pain he was feeling. Stephen was sure he would be moaning out in pain if it wasn't for the breathing tube in his throat.  
  
Delenn tried to calm him as much as she could. "Doctor, could you not give him something to help him rest?" she asked. Stephen explained that doing so could hinder his recovery, preventing him for emerging from his coma.  
  
Later his movements stopped and he seemed to rest. He was glad Susan was not there to see his misery.  
  
After 2 weeks had passed, John developed pneumonia. Dr. Franklin worried that he would never be able to help John recover. The fever and occasional restlessness Sheridan experienced had totally drained his energy. To see the Captain fighting to recover was enough to task even the most patient person.  
  
John's fever alternated with bouts of sweats which left his gown and bed linens soaked. He was moving his left arm about more freely now and tried to pull out his tubes which led to the use of a soft restraint on his wrist. He had not moved his right arm very much, not only was his motion limited by the cast, it probably caused him great pain to his shoulder to move it.  
  
Susan could hardly stand to visit Sheridan now. She had become more sensitive to his pain and discomfort since his consciousness began to return. She had kept busy, burying herself with work. Delenn was his constant companion reading to him and even helping the Med staff with his daily care.  
  
After a couple more days, Stephen tried weaning Sheridan from the ventilator. This led to even more frustration for him as John could not draw in enough oxygen on his own. A difficult decision had to be made to place a trach tube in Sheridan's neck. Stephen hated to do it to his friend and Captain but it would be more comfortable than the endotracheal tube in his mouth. It would also prevent future complications in case John needed to be mechanically ventilated for a longer period of time.  
  
Stephen waited on Delenn to leave to perform the unpleasant procedure. John's left lung was expanded now so he removed the chest tube first. John was lightly sedated allowing Stephen to place the trach. Sheridan would still be unable to talk but at least he would be able to swallow. After the tube was removed from John's mouth he did look much better. The tube remained in his nose though. It would be needed for drainage removal until his stomach and intestines had healed. While John was sedated, Dr. Franklin set the shattered bones in his collarbone and right shoulder. Now it was up to the Captain to move toward recovery.  
  
Delenn was surprised and shocked all at the same time when she returned to MedLab. John's breathing tube had been replaced. Stephen had spoken to her of the procedure deemed best for John. She only wanted the best for him. Now she could fully see his face without it but her eyes always led to the tube at his neck, connecting him with the ventilator, reminding her that it was not much of an improvement. He was pouring cold sweat again as he had many times before. His damp hair stuck to his forehead. She mopped his face and chest with a cool cloth, smoothing back his hair and talking softly to him. "You're doing much better Captain. I cannot wait until our next dinner together. We will have a good time." She sat by him to watch and wait.  
  
The moments that John Sheridan was awake were agonizing for him. He hurt all over despite the drugs. It hurt when the ventilator made him breathe and it hurt to be touched. He could barely move his fingers or open his eyes. He felt totally helpless. He felt the tube in his dry mouth and he felt sick most of the time. He surely would vomit if he could. It seemed every time he drifted off to sleep, someone else would wake him. He hated to be suctioned. The suction tube was poked down the tube in his throat and then up his nose. It always caused him to gag. He feared he would cough out the tube. Several times he passed out from the searing pain to his chest. His mouth was sore and dry and his head throbbed with each breath. He was confused and did not know what day it was or even if he was getting well. He had felt tender touches that he knew had to come from Delenn. If he could only wake up and see them. He didn't know if they thought if he could hear them. He caught bits and pieces in between.  
  
"...more comfortable."  
  
"......3 weeks. That tube needs changed anyway." ".....trach tube and sterile tray. Give him the seditave."  
  
Trach tube? Surely he was not that ill. He tried to move but couldn't. Later he dimly felt his mouth being swabbed out and suctioned. His throat hurt and he felt slight pressure on the front of his neck. He still couldn't move or breathe. He tried to open his eyes but failed.  
  
Susan decided to swallow her fears and visit with John for a while. She found him in the same area of MedLab. Delenn was sleeping in the chair by his side. She had heard from Garibaldi that John had a trach now but was doing some better. She decided to see for herself. She was pleased he was rid of the tube in his mouth. She felt this was a main source of irritation for him aside from the constant pain.  
  
He looked much more pale now, bruises almost completely gone from his face. His lips shone with ointment and the tube in his nose drained dark, thick fluids. He was resting now and she could feel his contentment, warm and fuzzy, barely a hint of pain shone through. He must still be sedated. Delenn stirred.  
  
"Susan, I'm sorry. I did not know you were here."  
  
"I just came in." she looked at Sheridan.  
  
"He's resting now."  
  
"How's he been?"  
  
"He's slept since I arrived. He'll be alright Susan."  
  
"I know."  
  
They sat at Sheridan's side talking for a while. MedTechs came and went, checking John's tubes and drains. It all seemed so cold and heartless. Susan wanted to take him away from all the pain or take his place. He was greatly needed, not only to her but to all on board Babylon 5. She felt a returning awareness from John. It came on suddenly, alerting her raw nerves.  
  
"Susan, what's wrong?" Susan's brows knitted tightly together. "I don't know." She looked over at Sheridan, who appeared to be sleeping. "I think he's awake." She stood as did Delenn and began to speak to Sheridan.  
  
"John, wake up. Open your eyes. It's me, Susan. I know you can hear me." No response.  
  
Delenn grasped his hand. "John, I'm here too. You need to wake up."  
  
The Med Techs alerted Dr. Franklin who like usual appeared immediately.  
  
"He's squeezing my hand." Delenn stated.  
  
"Come on Captain, you can do it. Open your eyes for me." Stephen urged him on.  
  
John's head moved slightly and he swallowed. His face tightened in a frown as his eyelids flickered. His eyes slowly opened and closed several times like he had problems focusing. His hazel eyes moved around and his lids seemed heavy. His mouth moved in a silent groan and pain filed his features. Stephen looked up to see Susan in a blank stare. He shook her shoulders.  
  
"Susan, what is it?!"  
  
She looked to Stephen tears filling her eyes, spilling over her cheeks. "Oh God, Stephen! John's blind."  
  
After a few moments, John began to panic and cough, trying to sit up and fight the ventilator. Susan had to fight hard to keep up her blocks to him as she tried to help them settle John.  
  
His mouth moved in silent attempts at speech. Most were 'I can't see' and 'Where am I?' He settled a bit after he was comforted by them. Dr. Franklin had the hard task of explaining his injuries to him and why he couldn't speak.  
  
"Don't fight the ventilator settings. Relax and let it breathe for you You're too weak right now John. Try to rest."  
  
He was still restless, tossing his head from side to side, trying to talk. Delenn placed a finger to his lips. "Shhh. We'll be right here with you. Don't worry." He smiled slightly and closed his eyes, exhausted.  
  
"Im going to look in your eyes, Captain." Stephen instructed him before shining the small light and scope into his eyes. "Your optic nerve looks fine, so does all the vessels. I want to do another scan of your head. I think your head injury has something to do with your vision. Point to where you hurt most."  
  
John's hand indicated his chest and stomach areas.  
  
"Out of 1 to 5, how bad?" He held up a hand and 5 fingers and his mouth formed the words 'all over'. He continued to try to breathe on his own that was weakening him and causing him a lot of pain. Dr. Franklin gave him a dose of pain medicine in his IV line.  
  
"John, you're going to start feeling better soon. I just gave you some painkillers. Don't fight sleep OK? You need it most." John nodded slowly. Stephen reviewed his vital signs and Susan and Delenn comforted John.  
  
John Sheridan woke again in darkness. He felt sick, cold and pain returned to his feeble body. Never before had he felt this helpless. The sound of the constant whoosh of oxygen through the tubes to his lungs became irritating to him.. Every time he coughed, his throat hurt and mucous rose to partially block the trach tube in his neck. Then, someone came over to suction his airway making him further cough and hurt.  
  
The blindness he endured was only temporary, Dr Franklin had assured him. That part of his brain was still swollen. He'd lost track of the days he spent in darkness, the only light being the visits from Delenn, Susan and others wishing him well.  
  
He still tired easily and hurt all over. Stephen had released his left arm from the restraint, warning him not to pull at any of his tubes. He had gingerly felt at his chest and stomach at the tangle of tubes leading off the bed's edge. It was no wonder he hurt so bad. He felt himself shaking as sweat rolled down his head.  
  
He felt around the bed for the call switch. It had to be there somewhere.  
  
"Captain?" a small voice stated. "You OK?" One of the Med Techs identified herself .  
  
He shook his head 'no' and mouthed 'pain'. Stephen's med team was excellent. She administered his pain medication again through the IV port and gently touched his arm.  
  
"There's someone here to see you Captain. Are you feeling up to it?"  
  
Sure why not? They should start charging admission. 'Come one come all, see the blind Captain.' He swallowed dryly and nodded. He was tired and hated to be cynical but he felt as if he were on display. Tears stung his eyes and rolled down one cheek.  
  
"Hello Johnny. How are you feeling?"  
  
It was the sweetest voice he had heard in a while. It was Elizabeth Sheridan, his sister.  
  
The tears flowed freely and he reached out for her. Her warm hand was like heaven. He could hear her soft sobs as she caressed his cheek. Although he was miserable, her visit made him feel somewhat better. "Mom and Dad tried to come but Dad was called off on business and Mom has a cold and didn't want you to be exposed to it too. They had talked to Dr. Franklin yesterday after you woke up. Im so glad you're OK, Johnny."  
  
He wished he could speak. There was so much he wanted to say to her. His tears continued to flow as she held his hand. The pain meds took hold of hm and he heard Stephen talking to Elizabeth in the distance.  
  
"...wean him from it. He's very weak and healing slowly. I have him on a steady dose of pain meds, that's why he's so drowsy."  
  
"I'm really worried Dr. He looks so bad."  
  
"We are doing everything we can, I'm sorry." Exhaustion gripped him and he fought to stay awake. Numbly, he felt her holding his hand and fingering his hair before he drifted off to sleep.  
  
Captain Sheridan slept for 2 days. Elizabeth remained by his side even when Dr. Franklin came to remove some of the drains in his abdomen. It was well in the 3rd week of his stay in MedLab.  
  
Elizabeth was shocked at all the damage John's body had endured. To look at the drains made her queasy and the fading bruises were even harder to look at. Dr. Franklin had told her that he would treat the incisions and cuts so they would heal smoothly. The treatment would barely even leave a scar. Now, John had only 1 large drain in his lower abdomen, the colostomy and the Foley catheter that drained his bladder of urine.  
  
Dr. Franklin ran a thin flexible tube with a tiny camera on the end through John's other nostril to evaluate his stomach from the inside. It showed John's stomach lining was still irritated and several ulcers were seen. He would not be able to have anything in his stomach until it healed. More than likely John would have nausea and vomiting so the suction continued to drain caustic acids that would cause him further irritation. Later in the day, John's eyelids fluttered and he began to awaken again.  
  
It was agony for Elizabeth to see her brother this way, struggling with pain, blindness and fear. She watched his lids slowly part as he woke. He blinked several times as if something were in his eyes.  
  
"I'm here Johnny." she touched his left arm gently.  
  
He turned his head toward her and smiled sadly. He pulled his hand from hers and rubbed at his eyes.  
  
"You've slept for 2 whole days. Dr. Franklin took out some of your tubes." She noticed his discomfort. "Johnny, what is it?"  
  
He blinked and mouthed the words 'I think I can see now.'  
  
John's vision was blurry at best but at least it was an improvement. Light hurt his head and Stephen dimmed the lights above him after telling him to take it easy and not strain to see. It would take time for more swelling in his brain to go down. He also told him that the swelling was still interfering with his respiratory efforts but he was willing to try to wean him from the ventilator tomorrow if all continued to go well. He constantly tried to blink away the haze in his vision. If only he could get rid of the tube in his throat he felt he would be all right.  
  
In his distant vision he could see figures moving about as in a thick fog. He had been raised up in the bed so he was semi reclined instead of flat. His back ached where he lay so long in bed. He longed to be in his own quarters in his own soft bed.  
  
A dark figure approached the foot of his bed he knew as Susan even before she spoke.  
  
"Hi John."  
  
He waved a hand at her and grinned. She and Delenn had visited some but had left Elizabeth to be with him most. He supposed it was because she was family.  
  
Liz had been sent by him to his quarters to rest. She had been at his side the whole 3 days she had been on the Station. He was worried she wouldn't get any sleep herself for worrying about him. Of course the Sheridan in her came out, flatly refusing to leave but he insisted by giving her a scowling look.  
  
Susan held his hand like she usually did. She could sense his thoughts better than anyone. "Are you OK?"  
  
He frowned and motioned for a data pad to write on. She was pretty good at reading his left-handed scrawls. She held it up so he could jot down his reply.  
  
'Not good. I hurt, I can't take the tubes, bed, my back aches. I'm going crazy.'  
  
He was usually so sure of himself, confident and happy. Now he was depressed and defeated.  
  
"What can I do?" she asked him.  
  
He wrote 'get me out of here. Im tired can't rest or sleep, noisy.'  
  
She felt it was other things too such as constant visitors and the Med Techs' constant evaluations of his status. He felt his injuries were on public display. "I'll talk to Stephen." He nodded. "If we cant work something out, Ill haul you out of here myself. Just like an old fashioned jailbreak." It was good to see him smile back at her. He was sure if anyone could do anything for him she could.  
  
"Absolutely not!" "Why Stephen? He's miserable in there!" Susan pleaded Sheridan's case arguing with Dr. Franklin.  
  
"I can't move him to his quarters just yet. He can't even breathe without the ventilator."  
  
"We can move it with him."  
  
"Who's going to take care of him. I can't spare any of my staff."  
  
"Me for starters. Delenn has agreed, Garabaldi, Lennier, even G'Kar."  
  
Stephen laughed. "What if he has problems? Infections? What if he codes?"  
  
"He will be monitored from here won't he?"  
  
"Well, yes."  
  
"If he has problems, he'll just have to come back to MedLab. That would be one of the conditions John will have to agree on before we move him." Susan firmly stated.  
  
"Let me wean him first."  
  
"Stephen, he can't wait. You know John. He's just going to get more confused and depressed. I think he would do better in his own quarters. There won't be any outsiders or extra noise to irritate him."  
  
"Let me think about it, OK? That's the best I can do right now."  
  
Delenn liked John's sister Elizabeth. She was smart and witty, and dedicated. She was a female version of John. At first she wondered who the woman was sitting so close to him, stroking his cheek and patting him on the arm and hand. When she looked up, the family resemblance was striking. They spoke of Earth, Minbar, home and families. Elizabeth dedicated herself to John's side so Delenn tried not to interfere with the bond they so strongly shared.  
  
Now she and Elizabeth was cleaning John's quarters. Stephen had finally given in and John was to be moved tomorrow. Then he would start a rehabilitation program. He would first start toward breathing on his own. She ached deep inside for him when he tried to breathe and fought the ventilator settings. This usually ended in spasms and coughing fits for him.  
  
She was nervous somewhat about the tubes and the care indicated for him but Stephen had agreed to send a Med Tech for the first few days to show them how to suction him, positions he needed to lay, emptying the urine drainage bag and colostomy and care of his trach tube. Hopefully, he wouldn't need the ventilator long, then the trach would be removed. It would be good to hear his voice once again.  
  
It was a difficult morning for John Sheridan. Dr. Franklin had adjusted the ventilator settings to assist his breathing efforts. John never knew it would be so hard to breathe. His chest was so sore, his muscles strained from injury and disuse. He tired out very quickly. He had been in MedLab now for one whole month. Dr. Franklin warned him not to tire himself out too quickly or be too eager to come off the ventilator.  
  
After about 30 minutes of assisted breathing the ventilator took over once again. John was slightly disappointed at his performance but was glad to have the machine to help him breathe. He rested before his big move.  
  
He was told by Elizabeth last night he would be taken to his quarters to rest and heal. He was anxious to try to get back to normal. His vision was still grey and foggy but he could manage. The swelling to his brain was almost gone and his vision should be clearing more in the next few days.  
  
After a few more assisted cycles, he was given more pain medicine because the transfer would be very painful for him. He hated to be so groggy but it would be better than the awful pain he felt in his body.  
  
Then Stephen placed a Med Bracelet on his left wrist along with wireless electrodes that attached to his chest to monitor his breathing and heart rate. This way Stephen would have a constant link to Sheridan's condition. His right leg was placed in a light weight splint to help stabilize it when he would be moved and he was helped into a fresh gown after a warm sponge bath. He hardly even knew he had been transferred to the stretcher that would be delivering him to his quarters. The drugs Stephen had just given him made him quite numb and distant feeling, only slight movements were felt by him as he was quietly wheeled down the hall. Stephen stood over him in the fog, gently squeezing the Ambu bag attached to his trach tube, helping him breathe as he was moved along.  
  
"We're here Captain." he heard someone say.  
  
He tried to open his eyes but he was so tired and sleepy. Voices. Floating.  
  
"Here, lets cover him up."  
  
"...just relax John. You're OK."  
  
His chest felt tight. "Adjust the settings. Don't fight it John."  
  
He then felt better, less heavy. He peeked through his heavy lids to see Liz fluffing his pillows and pulling the blankets up around his shoulders. His lids fell closed once again. More movements and sounds.  
  
"...shh."  
  
"...better." "Rest." Delenn's voice stated.  
  
Rest he did.  
  
Elizabeth disliked the thoughts of leaving her brother. It had been 2 weeks since her arrival and she had seen John make great strides toward recovery. Her company had granted her 2 weeks off to be with him and now she had to get back to work.  
  
She recalled helping John to breathe and helping him regain function of his arms and legs. Six weeks had passed since his capture and torture. Dr. Franklin had removed his arm cast and leg splint. The bones had fused without complications. Now she watched him sleep.  
  
Just this morning Dr. Franklin had removed the trach tube and carefully sealed up the entry point in his neck. A clear mask partially covered his face to deliver extra oxygen to him. John had been sedated so he would sleep most of the day. Maybe her departure wouldn't affect him so bad if he was sedated. She knew he was in good hands on the Station. The crew was very dedicated to him and spent their off duty time helping her care for her injured brother. It was a very touching sentiment.  
  
Delenn cared very much for him and she could see the love in their eyes when they looked at each other. She was happy John had found a kindred soul. After Anna died she thought he would never get over it but seeing him with Delenn put the doubt out of her mind. He had mentioned it to her a few months prior when she had visited the Station. Of course Delenn being a Minbari would cause some strains on their growing relationship but she was sure Johnny would overcome it.  
  
An alarm signaled someone at the door. She knew it was Susan coming to be with John after she left. Susan waited patiently in the kitchen area while she said her goodbyes to John.  
  
"Johnny, wake up." She gently tapped him on the shoulder. She sat down on the bed by his side and watched as his drowsy lids parted. He reached up to feel at the mask on his face. He then cleared his throat and touched the small bandage on his neck where the trach had been. He was still pale and gaunt, weight he had lost despite the IV nutrition and lipids he had been receiving. Most all the tubes were gone now except for the IV's, nasogastric tube in his nose, and the Foley catheter. She knew soon he would be having yet another surgery to repair his intestines and remove the temporary colostomy.  
  
After blinking several times he focused in on her. His vision was clear now and all signs of brain trauma was also gone.  
  
"Hi, sis." he whispered, voice strained and harsh from disuse.  
  
She brushed her hand through his hair. "Sssh.. Don't try to talk just yet. Today's the day Johnny. I have to leave. Duty calls, you know how it is." He nodded slowly as tears filled his eyes. Her eyes were also filled with love and compassion for her brother. He was usually so strong. He wiped away a stray tear on her cheek. She did the same to him. It was hard for him to stay awake and he kept closing his eyes.  
  
"Love....you." he whispered. He held on to her hand as tightly as he could before she turned to leave. Although she knew he would be OK, it felt as if her heart was breaking as she walked through his door and down the hall to the waiting shuttle.  
  
Susan entered his room after Liz had left to find John sobbing uncontrollably. She sat beside him and gathered his upper body into a warm embrace. She cried with him and felt his discomfort. She soothed him by rubbing his back and gently patting him between the shoulders, reminding him to breathe slowly.  
  
"It's OK, John. Let it all out."  
  
After a while his tension released and he lay back in the bed, wiping the tears from his face with a corner of his sheet.  
  
"I'm sorry." he strained through the oxygen mask.  
  
"Don't be. We're better friends than that." He smiled and nodded, closing his tired eyes once again.  
  
Waking up was not an easy task. For John Sheridan, it meant the start of another day filled with pain and misery. After dragging his weary mind to wakefulness, he was reminded that his sister was now gone. Her presence by his bed was immediately missed. Much of his memory of the past few weeks came in bits and pieces . He remembered the choking and cough of being suctioned and the helpless feeling when he woke up blind. But with all the pain he had endured the love and comfort is what he remembered the most. Delenn's warm hands and soft words, Susan gently guiding him to wake up, Garibaldi's jokes and even Stephen's ministrations. His sister had been the biggest help, especially in getting Dr. Franklin to agree to move him to his quarters. At least there he could rest without an audience. She and Susan had advocated for him because he couldn't talk at the time.  
  
Now, he lay in his bed in his own quarters. He barely remembered being moved there. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and looked around. Where was everyone? Surely he wasn't alone. Then he heard the rattle of plates in the kitchen. Must be Susan or Delenn. His throat was still sore and it hurt to talk. The oxygen mask was on his face and he still felt the tube in his nose. Bags of fluids and medicines hung on the bedside IV pump. He hoped how soon he could be up and about. Clearing his throat set him to cough. He knew coughing would help him clear the fluids and pneumonia from his lungs so he didn't try to suppress it. He rolled over onto his right side and curled up to help keep the pain in his abdomen down. He continued to cough deeply and then felt a hand firmly but gently patting him on his back. He looked up into the red eyes of G'Kar.  
  
"Captain, are you allright?" he asked softly. Johns cough was quieter and he nodded settling back into thick pillows an blankets. G'Kar straightened the mask on his face. G'Kar was great company, telling him of the Station rumors, entertaining stories and how he liked the orange juice in his refrigerator. John would have to send him some as a Thank You when he got better.  
  
"Captain, what can I do to help you get more comfortable?"  
  
"I'm fine G'Kar, really."  
  
John was getting irritated at G'Kar's constant offers to help him. All he wanted was to get out of bed for a while but he was still as weak as a newborn.  
  
Shortly Stephen arrived to check on his condition. He was thoroughly examined, a barrage of questions soon followed. "Are you feeling any pain? Does it hurt here? There? Cough, breathe in and out. How do you feel?"  
  
"You really don't want to know." John croaked.  
  
Stephen smiled and looked him in the eyes. "Yes, I do. Tell me."  
  
Stephen removed the oxygen mask and replaced it with another oxygen set that looped around his ears. He adjusted the prongs around the tube in his nostril.  
  
John took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm tired, Stephen. All I do is sleep but I'm still exhausted. I hurt every time I move. I can't even get out of this bed. Hell, I can barely roll over by myself. I'm sick of being sick."  
  
Stephen noticed John's voice was a little stronger now, his throat healing well from the irritation caused by the airway tubes.  
  
"Well," Stephen began as he sat beside John on the bed's edge. "Good news is you're healing pretty good now. Most of the bruises are faded away. Your lungs are more clear now and you haven't had any drainage from your stomach in the past few days. I want to take a closer look at your stomach again from the inside with a scope. If it looks healed, I want you to start taking in some clear liquids. Then I'll take that tube out."  
  
John looked hopeful. "The bad news is?"  
  
"You'll have to come back to MedLab for the endoscopic exam and another chest scan. Then I'll see if you're well enough to start some physical therapy. When your bowels begin to function normally, you'll need surgery again to repair your intestines. You won't need the colostomy anymore."  
  
John had to agree, "Sounds good!" "I want to see you first thing in the morning OK? I'll send a stretcher for you. Rest up. I'm going to change your pain med for something a little stronger and longer lasting for the next few days. Don't worry if you seem to be sleeping a lot. Healing takes an enormous amount of energy you just don't have right now."  
  
John nodded in agreement.  
  
The stretcher soon arrived to pick up Captain Sheridan to transport him to MedLab for his tests. It seemed the MedLab crew that was sent for him was not prepared for him to be so weak. He tried to help them with the transfer but quickly exhausted his strength.  
  
G'Kar gently scooped him up from his bed and lay him on the waiting stretcher. He was covered with a blanket and loosely strapped in. He was glad the hallways were empty. The sight of a fragile, sick captain was not good for the public to see. It could cause problems for the command staff. He knew Susan was capable of taking care of any problems that might arise but he didn't want any unnecessary rumors floating around about his health.  
  
He lay back and tried to relax as he watched the lights and ceiling speed by. It took Stephen a few minutes to settle him in after placing him in the exam bed. He knew Stephen had a constant link to him through the Med Bracelet and electrodes still glued to his chest. He watched as Stephen and his assistant hung the IV bags on the pole above him and hook up the oxygen. His Foley catheter was checked and hung on the bed's lower frame. He hadn't noticed earlier that the nasogastric tube was not connected to suction.  
  
"How are you feeling this morning, John?" Dr. Franklin inquired of him.  
  
He mustered up a wry grin. "A little better."  
  
"Good. Your voice is returning. Still, take it easy for a while. Let's have a look." He opened his mouth to let Dr. Franklin look inside. "A little red. That's to be expected. After you get rid of the NG tube, the irritation in your throat will clear up some more. Is your throat still sore?"  
  
"Mm-Hm" John noticed that if he spoke full sentences he quickly ran out of breath.  
  
"I want you to start drinking clear fluids again, water, sodas,weak apple juice, but no orange juice. The acid in it could start irritating your stomach again." Stephen removed the bandage from his neck to check the now sealed trach site. "You're healing well now Captain. I think I can schedule your surgery in a couple of days if your stomach cooperates." His chest, stomach and back was given a quick look and then he was scanned. "Good news. Your pneumonia is almost gone. I want you to start moving around more and sit up some. Still, don't overdo it." He stressed the last sentence and Jon couldn't help but smile. Stephen was beginning to know him all too well. "Now, you're going to start feeling really sleepy. I'm giving you something to sedate you for the internal exam." John started to feel warm and sleepy. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again he was back in his own quarters, lying in bed. Michael Garabaldi was sitting with him this time.  
  
"Captain?" Michael stood from his chair by the bed.  
  
Still rubbing his eyes, John decided to test his voice. "Michael," he began to cough but his voice was more audible now, a little more than a whisper.  
  
"Easy Captain." he was given a sip of cool water "Good news, Doc says if you hold down some water and the tube feeding you'll be rid of the colostomy in a few days."  
  
Worriedly, John stated "More surgery."  
  
Garabaldi nodded, "that's the bad news." John glanced around and noticed that a new tube had been placed in his other nostril that led to his stomach. A bag of thin, milky white solution was being pumped slowly through the tube. He took a few more sips of water.  
  
The more he lay in bed the more restless he became. He knew Michael tried to take his mind off of his misery by telling jokes and doing imitations of Londo which he had to admit was really funny.  
  
He mustered up the strength to ask Michael to help him up. "Michael, could you help me out of this bed?"  
  
"Are you sure you're feeling up to it? Doc said to take it easy until after you had your last surgery."  
  
"Yea, he also told me to be moving around some too. Can't have it both ways."  
  
It was sheer agony just sitting up on the edge of the bed. From here he could tell how swollen he still was. He didn't know how he was to be mobile while still hooked up to oxygen, IV lines, and feeding tubes. The Foley catheter still drained his urine, its tubes ran underneath his gown and was taped to his right leg.  
  
Michael clamped off the feeding tube and flushed it out like Stephen had showed him.  
  
John rubbed his chest and felt at his tender stomach. It was strange to be in an upright position again. He rubbed his face. He needed to shave. He wondered who had been taking care of his personal needs such as bathing and shaving. He didn't recall having either done.  
  
As if Michael could read his thoughts he practically carried him into the bathroom where he was helped to shower and shave. John always wondered why the shower had a recessed wall bench. Now he was thankful that it had. He was amazed at Michael's tender care as he was toweling him off.  
  
"Thanks, Michael. I feel almost human once again." He was helped into a pair of light blue pajamas and was helped to his feet. Michael supported him by holding onto his left arm and waist. His knees and legs shook as he took his first few steps toward the door. He quickly became short of breath and was set down in the chair by the bed. He felt the oxygen cannula being replaced to his face as he closed his eyes to ward off the dizzy sick feeling he had. After a few minutes he felt strong enough to make it to his couch. The bed wasn't too appealing to him right now.  
  
Michael tried to talk him out of it but he insisted.  
  
He caught a glimpse of himself in the full length mirror on the wall as he slowly walked by. Stopping, he saw faded green and yellow bruises lining his cheek and left eye. A small pink scar was on his neck where the trach had been. Michael had one arm supporting him and the other wheeling along the IV pump. The oxygen had longer tubing on it so the concentrator wouldn't have to be moved. He had lost all his healthy color. IV lines ran to his chest and the Foley catheter tube exited the fly of his pajamas to lead to the urine collection bag that hung on the lower rail of the IV pole. He raised up his shirt to peer underneath. More fading bruises covered his torso. He gently probed the 3 inch scar underneath his belly button that caused him some pain. Then his eyes wandered to the colostomy bag to the left of the scar. It was clear and had no drainage inside.  
  
He had not noticed himself slowly sinking to the floor until Garabaldi took him under both arms.  
  
"Talk to me Captain! Are you OK?!"  
  
Jolted, John managed a feeble groan.  
  
Just at that time the door began to chime  
  
"Aw, shit!" John exclaimed.  
  
"Relax Captain, we'll be there in just a minute."  
  
John felt himself being pulled up and turned around. He must have blacked out because when he opened his eyes, Stephen was peering back at him.  
  
"Had to push it didn't you."  
  
He was stretched out on the couch, Stephen kneeling at his side. Pain was returning to his body. "What happened?" he managed to grunt.  
  
"You're still weak. Your blood pressure dropped and you got dizzy and passed out. All you need now is to re-break your arm or leg. The monitor went wild down in MedLab. Don't you ever scare me like that again John."  
  
Later, he was carried back to bed by Stephen and Michael. A new tube feeding was started and he was given a light dose of pain medications and sedatives.  
  
Sleeping, he began to dream. His parents house, the Academy, rain on the roof. Flashes of light. Red hair and freckles. Anna! He reached out to her. "Anna!" he shouted. He was being restrained somehow. "I can't reach you. Where are you? Anna, help me please!"  
  
Silence, then he heard the faint tinkle of voices "The past is dead. Live for the future, the legends." Kosh.  
  
He woke with a start, sweat on his brow. He felt Delenn's cool touch on his forehead and saw Susan's worried glare.  
  
"You were dreaming, calm down. You're OK. Just breathe. That's good, relax and breathe." Susan adjusted the oxygen cannula to his nose where he had pulled it free from his ears.  
  
He did feel as if he were drowning. He forced in some deep breaths. What was he dreaming? He had to find.....who? He looked to Susan, reaching up to pull her closer. He felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes and on his cheek.  
  
Susan sat by him on the bed, "Let it go John. She's gone. It's OK. We're here." He looked at Delenn, her hand was on her chest and she cried with him. He gathered them both in close around him, feeling secure between them, falling asleep this time with no dreams.  
  
After 3 days of tube feedings and oral liquids, plus the intensive care delivered by Dr. Franklin and the others, John Sheridan was ready to undergo his final surgery.  
  
Delenn rarely left his side. She watched him struggle with pain each time he was helped out of bed. Now he could at least walk a few steps with support. He would try to read Station reports while laying on the couch but fell asleep after the first page. He rarely stirred as he slept now, exhausted from moving about and the physical therapy he received twice a day.  
  
The morning of his surgery he woke early. She smiled at him "Good morning Captain. How are you feeling?"  
  
He smiled back at her and sighed, "Better now. I'll be glad to get rid of these tubes. Every time I move I have to bring everything else along."  
  
"Well, today is your final surgery. You'll do fine and you will be rid of those tubes in no time at all. Don't worry."  
  
He reached for her hand and she took it in her small ones. "Thank you Delenn. I don't know what I would have done if it weren't for you and the others."  
  
She smoothed back his sleep tousled hair. A few moments passed and the wheelchair arrived to take him to MedLab. Susan had requested a wheelchair instead of the usual stretcher. She guessed that John would be more comfortable in a wheelchair.  
  
Just before he was to leave his quarters, the Vidphone rang out signaling an incoming message from Earth. Delenn answered it to find that it was John's parents. She stopped the MedTech at the door and wheeled John to the wall display.  
  
"Dad!" John exclaimed. Delenn was glad his voice was strong now. She hated that he looked so pale and tired. "How are you Johnny? I heard you had a pretty rough time."  
  
"I'm better now. Thanks to my crew. How's Liz?"  
  
"She's back at work. She checks on you a lot with Dr. Franklin. I'm sorry we couldn't make it in with her."  
  
"How's Mom?"  
  
"She's fine. She had a bad cold but she's getting over it now." He motioned off screen and John's mother appeared, a napkin in her trembling hand, blotting the tears from her eyes.  
  
"Hi Mom, don't cry. I'm OK."  
  
"I hear you're having surgery today." asked John's dad.  
  
He nodded "My last one. I'll have Dr. Franklin call you later today to let you know how I'm doing."  
  
"We love you son."  
  
"I love you too and I miss you both. Don't worry, Im in good hands here. I'll be just fine."  
  
"I know son."  
  
John's spirits seemed to rise after the call from his parents. Delenn accompanied him to MedLab.  
  
John's final surgery was successful and his intestines were clearly healed. He hadn't wanted to intubate John again but he feared the anesthesia would cause him respiratory failure. He would have to deal with a sore throat again.  
  
After the anesthesia wore off John began to cough and move, a sign he was waking. He was breathing strong enough to remove the breathing tube in his throat. A mask then fed him oxygen to help in clearing the rest of the anesthesia from his body. He would be kept in MedLab for at least 24 hours for closer observation. "You're doing just fine, John." he heard someone say. "Just take some deep breaths for me."  
  
Freezing cold, John struggled to open his eyes. He tried to talk but found his throat to be dry and sore again. Waves of nausea rushed through him as he lay there shivering. He opened his eyes slowly and Dr. Franklin came into view.  
  
At first, he thought he had the breathing tube in his throat again and began to struggle to free his arms from the blankets that covered him. He freed his left hand and was relieved to feel the oxygen mask covering his face. He could also tell the tube was still in his nose. He told himself to try to relax.  
  
"Are you cold?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
He watched Stephen pile on another blanket, this time warmth spread down to his body and he relaxed some. He looked around at the room and found he was still in MedLab. Feeling his stomach under the covers he felt the thick surgical dressing on the incision area under his bellybutton and another on his left belt line area. Gently pressing down on the areas caused cramping spasms to start. A grunt escaped him and Stephen noticed his distress and gave him a dose of pain relief in the IV port. He immediately felt warm and sleepy. His body relaxed some more. He tried to keep his eyes open.  
  
"Don't fight it Captain. You need to sleep it off."  
  
He shifted his body slightly to get more comfortable and spotted Delenn, Susan, Garabaldi, G'Kar and Zack at the observation window. He freed his right hand from the blankets and gave them a 'thumbs up' before sleep engulfed him.  
  
After twelve weeks of intensive care and 3 surgeries, Captain John Sheridan stood in front of the mirror to check his appearance. He stood straight and tall, his Earth Force uniform hanging slightly as he had lost some weight.  
  
Only a few weeks ago he remembered seeing the pale, bruised figure, tubes coming from his body connected to various machines and pumps. He had been shocked at the sight of himself at the time. His bones had healed and so had the scars of his torture and surgeries. The only visible scar was on his abdomen where the colostomy had been. It too would soon fade to a distant unpleasant memory.  
  
He strode in the kitchen for some orange juice and toast. Memories of being tube fed and the agony of stomach cramps, nausea, and alternating diarrhea and constipation after surgery made him queasy still yet but he steadily recovered gaining strength by the day. He still had some mild soreness in his lower stomach but it too was quickly disappearing.  
  
He returned to the mirror for one last look before beginning his 1st day of full duty since his torture. It felt good to finally be independent again. He sighed a silent prayer before opening the door and exiting to his waiting duties. 


End file.
